


Ogre

by maximumfudanshi



Category: Jrock, the GazettE
Genre: Alternate Universe, Dogs, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-16
Packaged: 2018-07-23 22:22:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7482171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maximumfudanshi/pseuds/maximumfudanshi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Uruha stopped in his path and looked down for a moment.</p>
<p>“Reita, that is the ugliest dog I’ve ever seen.”</p>
<p>“I know,” he sighed.</p>
<p>Or: Reita, bassist and lead singer of the Gazette, recently adopted a dog. Everything would have been just fine, if the pet photographer he'd taken her to wasn't a vain, snobby, superficial diva of a man. How is he going to deal with this guy, and where is all this glitter coming from?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Things no one tells you

Reita had been waffling about this decision for well over a year. He’d read the terms of his lease twice, bought books-for-dummies on the subject, and pestered his bandmates for opinions until they’d gotten sick of it. Kai had told him to think long and hard about taking on such a responsibility. Aoi had said Reita couldn’t possibly mess it up any worse than Uruha could. And Uruha had been too busy laughing because Kai had said ‘long and hard’ to give him a real answer.

So much for those guys. Sometimes, a man just had to trust his gut. And Reita’s gut said it was about damn time he finally got a dog of his own, at the ripe old age of twenty-nine. His parents had always told him that he wasn’t responsible enough each time he had seen their neighbor’s majestic black Kishu Ken and started begging, and he’d almost started to believe them. But he was a functioning adult, with an apartment, and a job, and a driver’s license- even if he didn’t have a car. He did his own taxes and washed his own dishes and never accidentally drank spoiled milk like Uruha did. 

He was ready. 

He dreamed of a loyal dog who would welcome him when he came home, an intelligent roommate to keep him company. Maybe a cool dog who would wear goggles and ride on the back of his motorcycle. A dog to inspire jealousy in a new generation of boys, as his neighbor’s dog had inspired jealousy in him. 

He was picturing a Husky, or a Kishu Ken, or a Doberman…. but the combination of the price tag and Kai’s stern reminder about puppy mill conditions had made him reconsider going through a breeder. Kai was usually right, so maybe somewhere out there, in a city the size of Tokyo, his canine soul-mate might be waiting in a shelter. 

That was why he was standing in the parking lot of the ward’s animal shelter, staring skeptically at the sad, grey façade. What was it with government buildings and brutalist architecture? But he was just here to look, to browse, to speed-date some dogs- not to make any life changing decisions. So he hung his helmet from the handlebar of his bike and forged ahead confidently.

A bell rang as he entered through the tinted glass door, and after a minute in the dingy lobby with the flickering fluorescent lights, and young woman in burgundy scrubs came out from a back room to greet him. All in one breath, she welcomed him and then asked if he was looking for a lost dog, and to please describe it. She spoke sympathetically, but briskly and professionally- clearly she did this all day, every day. There seemed to be a script.

“Uh, actually, I’m thinking about adopting a dog?” He hadn’t meant it to come out as a question, but he was thrown off by the odd start- there weren’t even any dogs that he could see. He tried to clarify, “You do adoptions here too, right?”

“Of course we do!” The woman’s face brightened and Reita was amazed by the sudden change in her demeanor, from a suspiciously robotic civil servant to an overly friendly stranger. “Although you might think we don’t, based on the number of applicants we actually get,” she added, sounding a little bitter, and he waited awkwardly with his hands in his pockets until she enthusiastically suggested, “Would you like to meet some surrenders?”

That sounded right, so he nodded and let her lead him though a swinging door as he asked, “Surrenders?”

“Dogs that people have given up. Or abandoned. We also house lost dogs while we wait to see if anyone claims them. That’s what I assumed you were here for.”

On the other side of the door, the reality of the shelter was apparent. It was a dreary concrete hall, the floor set with drains- bleaker than even the blank white reception area would have led him to expect. This was more like touring a prison than like the sunny yard full of puppies that he had been dreaming of visiting. But when he came to the first pen on the right, he realized that Kai knew him all too well. His bandmate knew Reita’s soft side, and knew that once he saw them, he would want to take every single one of the dogs home, all thoughts of a pedigree puppy forgotten. 

At the sound of people approaching, a dozen dogs crowded up to the bars and set the whole place barking in a chain reaction. He was busy looking closely at them, trying to sort out who was who and which one that rapidly wagging curly tail was actually attached to, when he heard rattling and looked up to see the woman opening the pen. She gestured to him, and he followed her in, slipping through the narrow opening while dogs swarmed around their feet, trying to escape. When she closed the door, the crowd mostly dispersed, their taste of hope gone.

“There are 103 dogs here today, so if you don’t see anyone here, just ask and I’ll show you the other pens.”

“103 up for adoption?” he asked as he knelt to commune with them. 

“Yes. Plenty of suitors.” She laughed as she bent to pet a large brindled mutt, then cleared her throat and tried to put on a more professional attitude again, “Sorry, but you’re the first person who’s even come to see them this week. If you tell me more about what you’re looking for in a dog, then maybe I can help you find one.”

Reita almost wanted to say ‘I’m just looking today’, but he couldn’t bring himself to crush someone’s hopes so early in the day. She didn’t need to know about that until he was certain that his dream dog wasn’t here somewhere. After all, it was possible. And with the shelter more crowded than he could have imagined, it was starting to seem like his chances were higher than he had expected.

“Ah, well, a smart dog, a tough guy who isn’t afraid of thunder or, uh, loud music… a medium-ish dog?”

The woman was smiling at his description, but she didn’t laugh at him, just asked, “Smaller than these guys?”

“Yeah, probably.” He looked regretfully at the one he was petting, a sweet looking Labrador mix. “You think he weighs more than sixty pounds?”

“Oh, definitely. All of these do. We keep them penned by size to keep the little guys from getting bullied too much.” She was opening the pen again and he followed her out, already feeling bad about the dogs he was leaving behind but willing himself not to get too invested. It wasn’t like there was any rush to make this decision.

The city employee walked further down the hallway, passing two cages entirely before coming to one where she stopped for a moment, sizing them up. “These guys should all be under 60. A lease requirement, is it?”

He nodded in answer as she let him in to meet them. She waited, politely out of the way against the wall, as he knelt again. It was clear that sixty pounds didn’t get him as much dog as he had been picturing. There would be no Dobermans in spiked collars for him, not unless he reconsidered and waited until he moved to a different apartment. It was over whelming to even try to think that through, surrounded by dogs who never stood still, some crowding him hungrily, others cowering. 

Finally, one of the largest dogs in the pen caught his eye- some kind of husky mix, in need of a good brushing but still ruggedly handsome.

“He’s beautiful.” He held out his hand, waiting for acknowledgment, but the dog turned away and slunk out of his reach with a sour look. He let his hand fall, disappointed.

“He’s one of the ones that someone bought for his looks, then dumped him here when he turned out grumpy because they didn’t take the time to train him.”

He held out his hand again to a forgettable mutt, and that time the dog came closer and accepted a scratch on the top of the head. 

“That one’s a sweetie, definitely loyal. Only four days though.”

Though he read her bitterness easily enough, Reita barely caught the last of what she said. “They only kept him four days? Why would anyone want to surrender him?”

“No, no, he has four days until he’s euthanized. We only have funding to keep surrenders for a week. Dogs with tags or microchips get an additional week to wait for their owners, then a week of adoptability, but that’s it.”

Fuck. 

Fuck, no one had told him that. Wasn’t the whole point of shelters to find homes for dogs? But in seven days, every one of these dogs would be dead. And what the hell could he do about it? He could take one. Just one, and then he would have to leave the others with the vanishingly slim chance that someone else would come for them. Eyes suddenly burning with angry tears, he was furious with himself for having even considered buying a dog. 

How was he ever going to choose? How could anyone expect him to decide which dog was worthy of life? They all seemed to be watching him, waiting. He jumped a little, startled, when he felt paws on his thigh. When he looked down, a furry white face was looking up at him, one of the smaller dogs in the pen squeezing in though the gap been his leg and the arm he had braced on it.

It was the ugliest dog he had ever seen. It was scrawny, with a thin short coat of white fur that grew in longer patches in places. Its feet were too big for its body, its ears torn and ragged from frostbite. And it was climbing into his lap, licking at his cheek before laying its head on his shoulder. He could feel a wagging tale thumping against his ankle. There he was, just sitting and crying impotently about their fate, and this ridiculous dog was doing its best to comfort him. He wrapped an arm around it without thinking.

“That Ogre, she’s got one day,’ the woman sighed. Later, Reita would think back on her defeated tone and wonder how she dealt with her job day after day. He would never have been able to do it, but her voice was steady as she continued, “She’ll love anybody who will let her.”

Reita rubbed tears from his eyes roughly and wrapped his other arm around the dog before standing and picking her up with him. He kept his back to the woman as he tried to clear his eyes and take a good look at her. She was a bit big to be held, but didn’t seem to mind the awkward position, just looked up at him with a tuft of fur falling awkwardly over her face, ragged ears pivoting curiously. 

No one else would come for her. 

His decision had already been made the moment he had realized that.

He rubbed at his eyes one last time, steeling himself to leave the others behind. Their chances were negligible, he knew, but he had to tell himself that that was still better than nothing. He turned around to face the woman in scrubs, and tried not to care that it was obvious he had been crying

She politely pretended not to notice and led him back down the grey hallway, through the swinging door, to the front desk. When she faced him across the counter, she was smiling, clearly overjoyed to see a dog going home, but he was having trouble responding to her- the dog still in his arms was a kind of happiness he hadn’t yet known, but he also felt like he might start crying again if he tried to talk. The woman handed him a simple collar and leash of black nylon webbing, a utilitarian thing the city probably bought in bulk. He finally put Ogre down, and when he began to pull the collar over her head, she held patiently still. When he stood to fill out the clipboard of paperwork he was handed, he felt her lay her head on top of his foot, a comforting weight even through the thick leather of his boots.

And then, just like that, he was out in the sunlight again, trying to forget about what was behind him. Ogre was close by his side, watching birds circle overhead. He made it across the parking lot and was standing beside his bike before he realized he really hadn’t though this through- there was no way she could ride safely with him until he modified his bike somehow. He dug out his phone and called Uruha for a ride.


	2. The good dishes

“Hey!” Uruha called as he stepped out of his car a few parking spaces down from Reita. “You alright? You sounded kind of weird on the phone.”

Reita was still a bit shaken up from his brush with the cold reality of abandoned dogs, but during the twenty minutes he’s had to wait for his ride he had pulled himself together a little. Fortunate, since he wasn’t in the mood to be teased by Uruha at the moment. “I’m fine. I got a dog.”

“You got a dog?”

At the sound of Uruha approaching, Orge finally came around from the other side of the motorcycle and headed toward him, tugging slightly at the end of the leash as she sniffed him. Uruha stopped in his path and looked down at her for a moment.

“Reita, that is the ugliest dog I have ever seen.”

“I know.”

Uruha eyed silently him for a moment as the dog bounced eagerly at his feet. 

“All right. Not even gonna ask. I’ll trust you on this one…” Uruha eventually shrugged in surrender and leaned down to offer a hand to Ogre, who promptly licked it. “Well, if he likes me, he must be alright,” the guitarist laughed.

“She likes everyone. Don’t get cocky.” Reita had to smile though, as he watched Uruha pet back the mop of long fur to see her face better. 

“She is from the shelter right? You didn’t buy her from an old Chinese dude with specific instructions not to feed her after midnight? Or pick her up out of a dumpster?”

“Don’t be a jerk.” Reita stepped forward and picked her up protectively. But he felt silly as soon as he said it. He knew Uruha was just teasing and that the dog wouldn’t understand anyway. But it still rubbed him the wrong way, considering how close her appearance had brought her to being put down. He wondered if Uruha knew the truth about what their tax dollars paid animal control to do.

Uruha laughed it off though, turning his focus to logistics. “You leaving your bike here? Or shall we just switch and meet at your place to switch back? If you trust me with your bike, that is.” He wiggled his fingers in a strange anticipatory gesture- one that didn’t improve Reita’s trust in him at all. But it really was the best plan, so he set the dog down again and separated his ignition key from the rest of the bunch, handing it to his friend with what he hoped was a stern, intimidating, don’t-make-me-regret-this look. 

Uruha handed his car keys over in return, and the rest of his keys with them. Poor judgement- no wonder he got locked out of his apartment so often. He started to head toward the bike, then paused and turned back. “You don’t even have dog food or anything at home do you? I’ll make a trip to the pet store for you. It’s kind of out of the way, but I’m such a generous guy and I don’t want that poor creature to have to eat instant ramen.”

Reita knew Uruha was just looking for an excuse for more alone-time with a motorcycle, but the guy did have a point, so he simply waved in acknowledgement and headed for the driver’s side door of Uruha’s tacky red car. He couldn’t believe he’d been so impulsive about his and left himself so unprepared- vacillating between brilliance and idiocy was supposed to be Uruha’s domain, not his. Behind him, he heard the guitarist rev his poor bike’s engine and peel out of the parking lot. 

He wasn’t exactly sure how to go about getting a dog to get into a car. Was he supposed to say it? Even in an empty parking lot with no one to hear him, he’d feel a little silly talking out loud to a dog that didn’t answer. He tried pointing instead. Orge hesitated for a moment, looking back and forth from his face to his hand, before jumping up onto the driver’s seat. He got in after her, scooting her over to the passenger side. That was easier than he had expected.

He made the drive back to his apartment without incident, his mind on the task at hand. Having a dog was certainly going to be an experience, but for right now, driving with an excited dog in the car was enough to worry about. At a red light, he looped her collar around the headrest to keep her in her seat and out of his lap.

When he got home, Uruha hadn’t shown up yet, so he squeezed the car into his assigned parking space. It was a tight fit, since his neighbors had gotten far too comfortable with the luxury of parking next to a motorcycle. Ogre followed him out of the car, up the stairs, and through his front door. 

Now what? The dog was looking expectantly at him as he sat on the step of the genkan and pulled off his boots. No, not the dog- his dog. He’d really done it. He hoped like hell he was right about being responsible enough, but the fact that he’d almost brought her home with nothing to feed her made him worry that maybe his mom might have been right about him. That was one of his greatest fears in life.

He took the leash off Ogre and hung it by the door. He’d have to get her a real collar, something nicer than that. The registration tags the shelter employee had given him were still in his pocket. He had to make sure to get them on soon- had to make absolutely certain she would never be mistaken a stray and sent back to that place. With that resolution, he began to give her a tour of her new home, narrating awkwardly as she followed him from the kitchen to the balcony to the bedroom.

\---

When Uruha arrived, he found his car in Reita’s parking spot. He sat there astride the bike for a minute before deciding to just pull in behind the car for a while. It wasn’t as though his car was going to be going anywhere without him. He didn’t think so, anyway. But stranger things had happened to him.

He shouldered the small bag of dog food that he’d just barely managed to fit into one of the saddlebags and headed up the stairs to Reita’s third floor apartment. He tried the door and found that Reita had left it unlocked for him. He slipped inside quietly and toed his shoes off, listening for the other. He wasn’t going to say anything, but he knew something was up with Reita. And he wasn’t going to admit it, but he’d spent a while carefully picking things out, not shopping recklessly as he did for his own groceries. He usually ended up with cereal and no milk, or milk and no cereal, but he thought he’d done better than that today. He could tell Reita loved the dog already, and so he had to love the little bastard too. That’s just what best friends did. 

He heard water running in the kitchen, and when he went in, he found Reita putting down a bowl of water on the tile floor. It was one of the set of six blue ceramic rice bowls from Daiso that Reita used for everything from cereal to spaghetti. Uruha remembered him buying them, all those years ago when they first came to the city. Twenty bucks had seemed like a lot back then, when they could just keep using old plastic ice-cream containers as bowls for free and use the money for a new set of guitar strings. 

“You’re letting her eat off your good dishes?” Uruha asked Reita as he set the bag down on the counter.

“I let you out eat off them, so why not?”

“Rude.” 

Uruha poured kibble into another of the rice bowls and sat down on the floor beside Reita. They watched the dog eat in silence for a minute before he said, “Your mother is going to want to see a picture of her, you know.”

“My mother is going to think I’m insane,” Reita groaned.

A little later, he and Orge stood on the balcony and watched as Uruha left. He started Reita’s bike, moved it from behind the car, and then got off, leaving it behind the neighbors’ minivan. Reita was tempted to yell some hints to him, worried that Uruha would get distracted and leave it where it would be ticketed. But he moved the car out into the aisle and left it there with the door open and the engine running while he moved the bike back into the space properly. Reita watched him hesitate and look his work over, and he could just imagine how Uruha must be talking himself through the steps to make sure he was doing things right. And then he watched Uruha give a satisfied nod, pleased with his work- right before getting in the car and driving off with the keys to Reita’s bike still in his hand.

\---

At five-thirty that evening, the woman who worked the front office at the animal shelter locked the front door and went back to the locker rooms to change out of her scrubs. She was meeting a friend for coffee, and she was determined to at least look a little nicer, even if she still smelled like dog.

The sink in the locker room was a large plastic laundry sink, just like the ones in the other rooms where they gave flea baths. She washed up, dirt under her nails even though they had been clean when she left the house that morning. She took her hair down from the tight ponytail she wore at work and redressed in jeans and a peasant blouse. One last look in the cracked mirror above the sink and she decided this was as good as it was going to get. Her face always looked so exhausted after dealing with work all day. This kind of job was definitely going to age her prematurely, just like her mother always felt the need to remind her.

She knew Ruki would roll his eyes and say that peasant blouses should be left in the 90’s where they belonged, but she wasn’t above threatening to step on the toes of his patent leather boots if he got too snarky. She had interesting news for him, and he would have to play nice if he wanted to hear it.

Since it was only a few blocks away, she walked to the café, heading straight for the table in the shade where a bright red Birkin bag on the table signified the presence of her friend. Such a conspicuous display of money- but that was typical of him. As soon as she sat down across from him, he raised a hand to brusquely summon a waiter for her. She ordered a cappuccino, and as the waiter retreated he finally put his iPhone away, leaning back and crossing his legs primly.

“So, how are things going in the public sector, Nacchan? You look suspiciously happy.” Ruki surprised her by starting the conversation with something other than a critique of her fashion sense. The eager, gossipy look on her face must have been pretty obvious.

She leaned forward conspiratorially, elbows on the table, “You won’t believe it, but someone adopted Ogre today.”

“You’re kidding?” He raised his drawn-on eyebrows skeptically. “What kind of person?”

“Tough motorcycle kind of guy with bleached hair. Or, he looked tough at first, but then he started crying.”

“He cried? Wow.” Ruki took a sip of his late and smiled. “You give him my card? I want to meet this guy.”

“Oh! I forgot to!” She had completely forgotten, distracted from her usual routine for adoptions by the inherent awkwardness of seeing a crying stranger cry.

Ruki pointed a perfectly manicured finger at her, scolding, “You’re never going to get your cut of the money if you can’t keep up your end of the bargain!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uruha, ya dun goofed...

**Author's Note:**

> yes, the only thing that's different in this au is that Ruki isn't a member of the band...


End file.
